


In a Different Life (are we the same)

by Sweven



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Complicated Relationships, Empress Padmé Amidala, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 18:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12238308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweven/pseuds/Sweven
Summary: No matter the world, some things never change. Falling is easy. Clawing your way back up is far more difficult.Created for the Jedifest Summer Fling Exchange





	In a Different Life (are we the same)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [litessaber (AzaWhite)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzaWhite/gifts).



 "Luke, no!" a frantic shout sounded as the child toppled over the edge of the bridge, happy squeals rapidly growing distant.

 The wheezing of a respirator became louder and more determined as the darkly clad man stretched out his hand and reached with every fibre of his being. The world narrowed and slowed, and the pressure around the man built until it was almost unbearable. Loud giggles came closer and closer until finally blonde tufts of hair reappeared and the world expanded again, relief flooding Vader as he rushed to grasp his son close, frantically checking the child for bruises or any signs of harm. 

"Don't do that kid, your mother would kill me if anything happened to you!", he said, the voice modulator mangling his words as he hugged the child. 

"Again Dad! Make me fly again!", the child exclaimed excitedly and Vader sighed, a confused smile hidden behind metal and plasteel, the smile crinkling the tarnished flesh around his eyes.

 

In another life, Luke would have found his fathers appearance intimidating or even downright terrifying, a hostile strangers face heralding death and pain. In this one, it was familiar, a sign of home and safety, and Luke knew that his father's face was the face of a protector. It always had been, ever since he could remember. 

 

* * *

 

Padmé died on Mustafar. 

Vader lived with that truth, heavy in his heart, for years.

For Anakin, the world ended then. Padmé died. Their child died. Anakin died. No remnant of Anakin Skywalker remained within the menacing shell of polished black plasteel and leather, only Vader rose from the ashes of Mustafar. His footsteps rang harshly through empty hallways on cold spaceships and he was alone. Vader tore the remains of the Galaxy into a picture that pleased his Master, because why else would he continue? He searched for traces of Padmé and their child in every living creature, on every planet and punished everyone in his way when he failed. He revelled in the pain and suffering he caused, hoping to somehow create a match for his own misery.

 

Padmé lived on Mustafar.

It was a close thing, when her world was swallowed in red and black and pain and betrayal. Her beloved Ani, the boy she had loved so dearly for what felt like eons, was killing her. His eyes burned orange and she could feel the Republic dying with her. When Obi-Wan came to her rescue, she wanted to die. Padmé, queen, senator, would-be mother of the children of the man who was killing her, she wanted nothing more than to lay down and suffer through her last moments. Anakin was gone and her world lay in ruins.

As she lay on the operating table in the vacuum of space, everything felt foreign. Around her was sterile equipment and droids she didn't know, and she felt estranged from the entire Galaxy. Obi-Wan held her children and she named them, and still she wanted to die. "A broken heart" the droid said, and Padmé gasped a broken laugh through her tears and her pain and saw how ludicrous dying would be. Her children, they needed her, more than she needed to die. Padmé decided to live. She'd survived so much and she would survive this.

She lived with grief and rage flowing through her veins in equal parts, and she fought relentlessly. When she sat on the edge of the operating table, a child in each arm, she asked about Anakin and Obi-Wan lied to her. "He's dead," he said, and Padmé saw the lie immediately. She fixed him with a withering stare unlike any Obi-Wan had ever seen from her. Power and purpose shone brightly through the Force, and as Vader chose a new Master in the Emperor, Obi-Wan chose Padmé.

Padmé refused the Jedi's plans to separate the twins and she raised hell to reclaim what was hers. A Rebellion was formed around her and countless worlds rallied together, bound to each other by a fierce desire for freedom and justice. "The Republic will rise again," she swore in front of the masses, "and Palpatine will lay broken beneath us as we triumph."

 

Whispers of an Empress leading the Republic never found their way to Padmé's ears until after the war was won.

 

* * *

 

Years after Mustafar, Padmé and Obi-Wan found Vader and the Emperor on the bridge of a Star Destroyer. Ignoring the shrill laughter from Palpatine, ignoring her former mentor and the ruling Emperor of Known Space, Padmé stared at the half-man besides Palpatine. She still believed in him, still, even after everything that happened. She barely recognized him, but with fire in her heart and ice in her voice, she spoke his name and Vader returned to her. 

Redemption is not an easy thing, and Anakin never truly found his way back to the light. In another life, Obi-Wan had said that Vader murdered Anakin when he fell, and he had been right. What remained now was colder and more ruthless than the childish general from the Clone Wars had ever been. Hatred still ran deep in his heart and Padmé knew. She never forgot what he had become. 

 

When she saw him with their children for the first time, Padmé knew she had been right in believing in Vader. The twins thought he was the the tallest man they'd ever seen and at three years old, Luke was the fearless of the two. Blond wisps of hair fell into his eyes as he stood in front of the stranger and demanded that he remove his mask.

"Mom says that you're our dad, but I won't believe her until I've seen your eyes."

Puzzled, Vader removed his mask and kneeled so that the toddler could reach his face, fully aware of the risk he was running by removing his life support. Pasty white and marred by the Dark Side, Vader knew that he made a frightful sight, but Luke grabbed his face and stared into the blue eyes surrounded by yellow. Shame filled Vader, shame that his children hadn't had the perfect life that he'd envisioned for them, shame about everything he'd missed. 

Luke nodded as thoughtfully as a toddler could, and his pudgy hands released Vader's face. "Alright, you're our dad," he said and smiled a blindingly bright smile that took Vader's breath away. Leia had crept up behind her brother, more cautious and more than a little sceptical about this supposed father of theirs. "He looks weird, Luke," she said but before Vader could decide what to do, she'd nudged her brother and continued. "Do you think he knows how to play tag?" 

 

* * *

 

Vader recognized the Force latency in both his children early on, and Luke especially rejoiced in his newfound powers. Vader remembered the thrill when he first felt the Force rippling through the air, but seeing Luke doggedly meditating and honing his focus reminded Vader of the Jedi Temple of old, of the countless hours he'd been forced to meditate, of how much he'd loathed it. Vader had always preferred action, but his son was so different from himself. Training Ahsoka, even in the middle of a war, had been easier than this.

"I can't do it, Dad! It's too heavy," the boy whined as he tried to lift a boulder with the Force.

"Come on Luke, we've been over this. The weight isn't important," Vader sighed. "Just feel it, let the Force flow through you like you do when you're meditating."

Luke tried again, but Vader knew that he would fail before he began. As the boulder failed to move more than an inch, Luke turned teary-eyed to his father. "Was it hard for you too? Y'know. When you were a kid..."

Vader sat down next to his son. "No. The Force always flowed freely in my grasp," Vader said not unkindly. Luke looked at his feet and Vader could feel the shame radiating off of him. "Luke... We all have different strengths and yours are not mine. I can lift that boulder without blinking, but I can't sit still for hours emptying my mind like you can." Vader gently bumped his shoulder against his son's. 

"But that's no good... Without being able to do anything, that's useless...", the boy sniffed. 

"Luke, trust me. I wish that I could do what you can. Keeping a clear head is far more valuable than being able to lift a boulder," Vader said. "Now, this never made any sense to me, but Master Yoda once told me "do or do not, there is no try", maybe give that a shot?"

The boy wrinkled his nose. "That doesn't make any sense. How can I do it if I don't try? That's dumb." 

Vader chuckled in agreement but a few weeks later, Luke came running to him. "Dad! Dad! I got it! I can't just try!". Vader looked at his kid like he'd grown a second head and his son just sighed and dragged his confused father to the nearest large object. "Look!", he said and effortlessly lifted the dining table.

 

* * *

 

Leia sulked about Luke's Force abilities until they started training with training-sticks. In the beginning she bested him nine times out of ten and though Luke quickly caught on, Leia was always a tad better.

"See Luke, fencing wasn't a waste of time!", the girl shouted mockingly across the training mats until her brother pelted her with tiny rocks and the training session deteriorated into a game of tag with Force-powers and a bit of wrestling thrown in. Vader let out a hearty laugh at his children's antics and felt more at peace than he had in a decade.

 

Luke was calmer than Leia in many regards, and while she was off fighting heated debates in the Senate, Luke and Vader often meditated together at Luke's insistence.

Anger was always brewing underneath the surface of the Fallen Jedi, a strain of disgust directed at himself and even at 15 Luke tried to guide his father away from the lurking darkness. "Forgiveness", he'd preach, and Vader would struggle not to laugh at the naivety of his son. He refused the help the teenager offered, unwilling to put anyone through the sludge of misery that was his mind, but his son's concern was touching nonetheless. When Luke looked at him, Vader couldn't even imagine what his son saw, but Luke kept looking. He saw his father shrouded in darkness, saw the way he still armed himself with a rigid spine and struck fear in the hearts of anyone who dared to defy him, and Luke saw light. The tiniest speck of pure light and good that not even his mother had managed to uncover was blooming within Vader.

Luke smiled his mysterious smile and armed himself with patience.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan often wandered alone in those days.

He'd fought for Padmé in the years of the Rebellion and would fight for her until his dying day. He'd trained both of the twins and loved them dearly, but everything was so different now than it had been before the Empire. The Amidala-Skywalker family was of a different breed than himself and he didn't seek to join them often, too many memories, too many lies and too much regret separated them now. His entire adult life, he'd been tangled up in complicated relationships with Padmé and Anakin. Dealing with them as the Empress and her husband was one thing, but being friends, family even, was near-impossible.

Still, as much as he tried to keep his distance, he never stayed away for long.

Luke went with him sometimes on his walkabouts. Obi-Wan was happy with the company and the younger man was ever curious and absorbed every lesson or story Obi-Wan was willing to part with. In many ways, Luke was the perfect Padawan, Obi-Wan thought. Much more focused than Anakin, less prone to jumping into action without a thought, and much more likely to understand the reasoning behind Obi-Wan's requests.

 

On their travels, Luke would often ask for stories about his father, about the child that Anakin had been once, about the man he became, about the Clone Wars, and about the Fall.

Initially the old Jedi was reluctant to share, too afraid of what regaling old stories might bring. Luke never pushed Obi-Wan, but still he warmed to the tales of Anakin's and his past glory, of their shared victories and defeats. A tinge of hurt always lined his voice and Luke ached with empathy.

At first, Obi-Wan thought that Luke's questions were founded in misguided hero-worship, that Luke was trying to be more like his father before he Fell, and he was afraid of the boy's curiosity. No matter how perfect of a Padawan Luke might be, Obi-Wan still saw much of Anakin in the son, too much perhaps. As they trained, Obi-Wan soon realised that he couldn't have been more wrong. Luke was kind and passionate, sometimes too much so. He always tried to ease the pain for everyone, his father especially and Obi-Wan feared for the future.

Obi-Wan's heart weighed heavy as he tried to guide the young Jedi down the right path.  Attempting to dissuade Luke from helping his father brought out a streak of combined stubbornness inherited from both Anakin and Padmé, and Obi-Wan was old enough to realise a lost cause when he saw one. Instead, he set out to help Luke in his attempts to help his father though he feared the pain his teachings might bring. 

It was slow going, but as he saw the light ever so slowly re-emerge in Vader, Obi-Wan felt less and less like he was suffocating.

 

Obi-Wan often wondered at the bond the family had. He'd loved Anakin like a brother, he'd loved him more than anything in the Galaxy, but he'd never been able to give neither Anakin nor Vader what they truly needed.

Maybe this family was what Anakin had needed all along, the unconditional acceptance that Obi-Wan had never been able to provide.

Anakin's betrayal still pained both Master and Apprentice, the hurt ran deeper than the oceans on Naboo, and the scars would never be fully healed. Still, they tried and as time went by, Obi-Wan visited more often.

 

* * *

 

For years, Luke kept scratching at the barrier in his father's mind even as he knew what lay behind it.

Vader had never kept his past actions secret, but letting his walls down to allow his son access to the magnitude of the regret and suffering seemed impossible. Luke knew of the Fall, of the countless horrors Vader had wrought, the children he'd murdered and the worlds he'd burnt to ashes but still Vader was unwilling to allow his son access. His shining son, the kindest of his children, the gentlest, what if he revealed his true self and he lost him? Vader couldn't bear it. 

 

When Vader finally released the tightness in his chest, Luke was a fullfledged Jedi Master of his own. Their bond had grown stronger over the years though Vader had hardly noticed how much he now relied on his son. A son to be treasured, but also a Jedi who always had his back, a man who believed in the tiny speck of light still flickering in his darkness. His son let his fathers atrocities sweep over him, without judgement or excuses, and helped his father find a spot of relief. Vader never quite understood how Luke could accept him so completely but he was grateful beyond imagining. Luke was grateful that his father had healed enough to let him in.

 

Years later Vader would recognize parts of Obi-Wan in his son's teachings and mannerisms, and he would look upon his son and see the best of both of them.

 

* * *

 

Many years later, another child was playing on another bridge on another planet. A loud gasp escaped Luke as the child disappeared from sight and fear filled the air like a thick fog. Moments later the child was safely back on the bridge and Vader held his grandchild tightly.

Blue eyes looked down on the toddler and as often happened these days, smile-lines crinkled the scarred tissue around Vader's eyes.

"Again Grandpa!", the child demanded and Luke looked at his father with worry lined in his brow. 

"You've got a long road ahead, kid," Vader said to his son as he handed over his grandchild. 

 

 


End file.
